French's International Cooyrighted (in Kngiami, her Colonies, and th 
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I WE DIM AT SEVEN 1 

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9 ANGELA CUDMORE and PETER DAVEY J 

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^ Copyright, 1909, by Angela Cudmore and Peter Davey ^ 

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^ All Rights Reserved ^ 

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^ CAUTION:— All persons are hereby warned that "We Dine fa 

at Seven" being fully protected under the copyright laws Q 

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^ presenting the play without the consent of the author or k 

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ty provided. Application for stage rights must be made to ^ 

W Samuel French, 24 West 32nd Street, New York City. fa 



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WE DINE AT SEVEN 

Sketch for €too Xafcieg 



BV 

ANGELA CUDMORE and PETER DAVEY 



Copyright, 1909, by Angela Cudmore and Peter Davey 



CAUTION :— All persons are hereby warned that " We Dine at Seven," 
being fully protected under the copyright laws of the United States, 
is subject to royalty, and any one presenting the play without the 
consent of the author or his authorized agent, will be liable to the 
penalties by law provided. Application for stage rights must be 
made to Samuel French, 24 West 22nd Street, New York City. 

All Rights Reserved 



New York 
SAMUEL FRENCH 

• PUm.ISHF.R 

26 WEST 221) STREET 



London 

SAMUEL FRENCH, Ltd. 

26 Southampton Street, 

STRAND 






WE DINE AT SEVEN 

Character?* 

Milicent A very smart woman. 

Julia ; . Another — only smarter if possible. 

The action takes place at Miliccnt's Flat, Regent's Court 
Mansions, K W. 

The time is 6.30 P. M., during the winter season. 



This sketch is fully protected and is licensed by the Lord 
Chamberlain. 



©CI.D 17370 



TMP92-008992 



PROPS FOR « WE DINE AT SEVEN." 

The scene represents the sitting-room of a smart 
West End Flat, thoroughly comfortable and well 
furnished. 

Doors R. — Leading to Kitchen. 
L. — Leading to Bedroom. 
L. C. — To passage showing the front door 
through the lobby. 

Fireplace down stage L. 

Dining Table L. C. 

Arm-chair by fire L. 

Sideboard R. C. with as many drawers, etc., as 
possible. 

Sofa up stage R. 

Chairs — Occasional Tables — Ornaments etc., about 
the room. 

SMALL PROPERTIES. 

Off R. — Poster (Suffragette Meeting.) 
Shovel. 

Dirty Table-cloth. 
Pail. 

Gridiron. 
Cullender. 
Large Spoon. 
Saucepan. 

Potatoes in large basket. 
Frying-pan with cutlets. 
Oysters in barrel. 

3 



4 SMALL PROPERTIES. 

Plenty of knives and forks. 

Aspic mould and jug to pour liquid into. 

Pudding basin. 

Pastry board — Dough — Rolling pin, etc. 

Jam jar with pickled cabbage in it. 

Off L. — Lighted bedroom candle. 

On stage — Book for Milicent. 

Flower vases, books, magazines, etc., on 

the centre table — all on a cloth which 

Milicent picks up. 
Tablecloth in sideboard drawer. 
Cruets — Glass, etc., in sideboard. 
Salver on sideboard. 
Hammer in sideboard drawer. 

Ornaments on mantelpiece 
Box of matches on mantelpiece. 

Pictures — Plates, etc., on the wall on trick 
lines (if possible) all to fall at the 
explosion. 



WE DINE AT SEVEN. 



(Milicent DISCOVERED reading by fire L. Door- 
bell rings. Milicent goes o?i reading. Door-bell 
rings again harder. Milicent goes on reading, 
looking round impatiently. Knocker and bell. 

Milicent. How slow those servants are I 

(Knocker and bell again.) 

Milicent (rises, throws down book, and crosses to 
door r. Calling off R.). Parker, Parker ! Why, 
don't you open the door ? (No reply.) Parker ! Par- 
ker ! Where can the girl have got to ? Parker ! 
Cook, Cook 

(Knocking and ringing still harder.) 

Milicent. This is really most mysterious. What's 
happened to the people ? I suppose I must open the 
door myself. (Crosses to L. c, opens door and passes 
into the lobby. She speaks off.) Julia, I really must 
apologize for keeping you waiting like this. Goodness 
knows what's become of the servants. (Ke-enlers, L. c, 
followed by Julia.) It's awfully good of you to 
come — I was so afraid you might be out of town. 

Julia. Why, what's up, Milicent ? 

Milicent. He's coming to dinner. 

Julia. He ! Who ? 

Milicent. My clear, I thought you would have 
guessed. Mr. Joyce 

Julia. What, that clear thing we met at the 

Hannans' ? Oh, Milicent 

5 



6 WE DINE AT SEVEN. 

Milicent. He's passing through town — he wrote 
and suggested we should do a dinner and a theatre — 
rather sweet of him wasn't it ? — he wanted me to meet 
him at the Carlton, but, somehow I didn't think I could 
quite do that— it wouldn't have been quite 

Julia. Well, not quite 

Milicent. I thought he might just as Well dine 
here — and you see, dear, I couldn't receive him all alone 
in the flat, — how could I, dear ? so I thought you would 
be most awfully sweet and not mind running in and 
being number three. 

Julia. Mind, why should I ? 

Milicent. I've ordered a regular man's dinner — 
just oysters, a little clear soup, an aspic, lamb cutlets 
and a jam roley-poley. I know if there's one thing a 
man likes more than another its jam roley-poley. 
Why, bless me, it's half-past six and I said we dine at 
seven. Trot and take off your hat and cloak, dear. 
I wonder why Parker hasn't laid the cloth. 

[Julia exits l. 

(Milicent rings bell. Pause. Then rings it again 
very impatiently.) 

(Julia re-enters l., with her cloak off.) 

Milicent. I cannot think what's happened to the 
servants this evening. (Rings bell again.) It's most 
extraordinary, Julia, they don't seem to take the least 
notice of bells. (Rings bell again. Crosses to door r., 
and calls off.) Parker, Parker ! (No reply.) Julia, 
what can have happened ? 

Julia. If I were you, I should go and see, dear. 
(Milicent exits r.) 

Milicent (offR.). Julia, there's no sign of anyone 
in the kitchen. (Milicent re-enters r). What can this 
mean ? I do believe they're out. 

Julia. They can't be. They know you dine at 
seven. 

Milicent. Yes, that's just the awful part of it. 
Julia, I shall get hysterical, I know I shall. 



WE DINE AT SEVEN. 7 

Julia. Let me see if I can solve the mystery. 

[Julia exits r. 
Milicent. (very hysterical). Oh, what is to be done? 

(Julia re-enters, carrying large poster.) 

Julia. Milicent, look ! 

(Julia holds up poster.') 

SUFFRAGETTE MEETING ! 

DOMESTIC SERVANTS 
SPECIALLY INVITED. 

Mrs. Blankhurst 
Will address the 
; Meeting at 

7 : 3-°- 

Milicent. Good heavens I What am I to do ? 
Mr. Joyce will be here at seven. Julia, why don't you 
say something ? Julia, for goodness' sake, say some- 
thing. What am I to do ? 

Julia. It's pretty awful, isn't it ? 

Milicent. Awful ? Julia, it's a calamity I Do you 
hear me, it's a calamity ! What is to be done ? 

Julia. I suppose these charming servants of yours 
will condescend to be home before dinner time. 

Milicent. Not they. Mrs. Blankhurst does not 
speak till 7:30, and we dine at seven. Julia, I'm 
getting hysterical. 

: Julia. Don't be foolish, let's have a good long 
think. (Julia walks about. Milicent sits by fire 
absolutely disconsolate.) 

Milicent. What will Mr. Joyce say ? 

Julia. Now, Milicent, do pull yourself together. 
We must get on with the dinner, that's all. Can you 
:00k ? 

Milicent. Heavens, no ! I haven't the very 
slightest idea about cooking. 

Julia. Well, thank goodness, I've not attended 



8 WE DINE AT SEVEN. 

cooking classes for nothing. You must lay the cloth 
and I'll start the dinner. [Julia exits r. 

(Milicent opens every drawer trying to find tablecloth 
— She finds it — and then looks in a helpless 7vay at 
the flowers, magazines, etc., on table. 

Milicent. Oh, one hasn't time to be fussy. 

(Milicent picks up the cloth on table rolling all its con- 
tents in it and throws it into arm-chair l.) 

Julia {at door r.). Milicent, the fire's nearly out. 
Where do you keep the coal ? 
Milicent. In the coal box. 
Julia. I can't see it. 
Milicent. I'll come and get some. 

(Milicent exits r. Julia enters r.) 

Julia. I shall make my frock in an awful mess. 
(Takes cloth off table and pins it round her) 

Milicent (off R ). Here are the coals ! (Great 
noise of shoveling coals off r.) 

Julia. That's right, we shall get on now. [Exit r. 

(Milicent enters r.) 

Milicent. This is too dreadful for words. Where 
is that tablecloth ? (Looking about for cloth) 

(Great noise of coals being put on the fire.) 

Julia (offR.). Milicent, this stove is making such 
a funny noise. 

Milicent. Pull out the damper, dear. 

Julia (offR.). Which one ? 

Milicent. Oh, anyone you like — all of them — 
where is that tablecloth ? (Turning everything upside 
down to find cloth) 

Milicent. Julia, do you hear — I can't find the 
tablecloth. 



WE DINE AT SEVEN. 9 

(Julia appears at door r. — the cloth round her all over 
soot.) 

Julia. What are you talking about ? 

Milicent. I tell you, I can't find the tablecloth. 

Julia. You really mustn't take me away from my 
cooking like this. 

Milicent. What is that you have round you ? 

Julia. This ? Oh 

Milicent. It's the tablecloth — Julia, how can you? 
It's really too bad of you. 

Julia. I can't make my new dress dirty. 

Milicent. Well, take anything — here, this will 
do. 

(Milicent picks the tablecloth out of the armchair, l. 
scatter i? ig the books, fiowers, etc., all over the place. 
She throws the tablecover to Julia.) 

Julia. Oh, take your beastly cloth. {Throws cloth 
on table and pins on tablecover) 

(Milicent lays cloth dirty side up.) 

Milicent. Oh, this will never do ! {Turns cloth 
over and commences to lay it) 

[Julia exits r. 

(Milicent tries to lay the table, continually shifting every- 
thing about.) 

Milicent. Oh, dear ! I thought it was the simplest 
thing in the world to lay a cloth. 

{Opens all the drawers to find the table things. Leaves 
all drawers open, making the room in absolute dis- 
order.) 

Julia {at door r., her dress tucked up). Milicent, 
it's really too bad of you not to come and help me. I 
don't know where the things are kept. 

Milicent. You simply mustn't bother me. I'm 
too busy. 

(Julia goes back into kitchen.) 



10 WE DINE AT SEVEN. 

Julia {turning off r.). I can't find the salt, and if 
I can't find the salt, how on earth do you suppose I can 
get on with the soup? 

Milicent. Oh, it is too trying ! Here, let me 
come. [Exit r. 

(Julia enters r., carrying a saucepan.) 

Julia. I don't know how I'm supposed to find 
places for all the things on the one muddling little 
stove — the hot plates seem to take up so much room. 
{Puts saucepa?i on fire l.) 

(Milicent enters r., her hands full of spoons and forks. 
Julia, going off r., collides with her — everything 
falls.) 

Milicent. Julia, how can you ? I call it most un- 
friendly of you to delay me like this. {Picks up things 
and proceeds to lay cloth) 

Julia {offR.). Milicent, I am sure there is some- 
thing wrong with this stove. 

Milicent. Pull out some more dampers. 

{Great noise of dampers off.) 

Julia {at door r.). That seems to make it worse. 

Milicent. Very well, then, shut up a few. Now, 
let me see — knives on the right — forks on the left — 
where does that girl keep the knives ? 

{Turning out more drawers.) 

(Julia rushes in r. carrying a basket of potatoes.) 

{She drops the basket of potatoes in the centre of the 
stage.) 

Julia. Heavens 1 there's a black beetle. 

{They both jump on chairs holding up their skirts?) 

Together. Where — where 

Julia. Oh ! this is getting beyond a joke. 
Milicent {still o?i chai?-). Do be reasonable — is it 
my fault ? 



WE DINE AT SEVEN. H 

Julia. Oh, I suppose we've got to go through with 
it — you'd better skin the potatoes. 

Milicent. You seem to expect me to do everything. 

(Julia goes offR.) 

Julia (going off). Keep an eye on the soup. 
Milicent. I've got my eye on it. 
Julia. Well, stir it — do do something. 

(Milicent to fire, stirs soup — turns saucepan over.) 

Milicent. Julia, Julia, for goodness' sake come and 
help me ! 

(Julia enters R. Rushes across the room to fire, as she 
does so, she catches the tablecloth and pulls everything 
to the ground.) 

Milicent. Oh, Julia, Julia ! What have you done ? 
Oh !— Oh ! 

(Milicent falls into chair and breaks into screaming 
hysterics.) 

Julia. Here, pull yourself together. 

(Milicent worse.) 

Julia. Shut up ! Do you hear me, shut up ] - 
(Soundly shakes Milicent) Will you be quiet ! 

Milicent (sobbing). Oh, you're positively brutal to 
me ! 

Julia. Look at the mess you've made of the soup 
— after all the trouble I've taken over it. 

Milicent. Oh, what are we to do ? Oh, what are 
we to do ? 

Julia. Do ? Go without soup, I suppose. (Bounces 

0ffR.) 

(Milicent picks up things and re-lays cloth.) 

Milicent. There, I think that's pretty right— now 
I must get the glasses — where does that wretched girl 
keep the tray. (Looks about for tray, upsetting all the 
furniture. Electric light begins to flic ke?-) 



12 WE DINE AT SEVEN. 

Julia (off r.) Milicent, what's wrong with the light ? 

Milicent. Oh, don't bother me, I don't know ! 

Julia (at door r.). There must be something wrong 
with it — it's jumping about all over the place. 

Milicent. Now, let me see — we shall want tum- 
blers, champagne glasses and claret glasses. 

(E/ectn'c light flickers badly.) 

Milicent. Bless the light — there is something 
wrong. [Calls off) Julia, it's the main switch, I 
suppose — turn it on more, or turn it round — or do 
something — you'll find it under the kitchen dresser. 

(Milicent exits r. carrying tray. Light goes out entirely. 
Both scream. Terrific smash of glass offR.) 

(Enter Milicent and Julia groping about in the dark.) 

Milicent. Oh dear ! Oh dear ! You are simply 
senseless, Julia. Thanks to your muddling about with 
the switch, you've made me smash all the glass. 

Julia. That's right, blame me for the precious elec- 
tric light going wrong — this is nil the thanks I get — 
why on earth don't you do something — find a match. 

(Both grope about looking for matches — upsetting flowers, 
vases, ornaments, etc., as they do so.) 

Julia. Here, I've found one — now get a candle. 

Milicent. There's not such a thing in the flat. 

Julia. Not got a candle ! Well, perhaps you'll tell 
me what to do. 

Milicent. I'm getting hysterical again. 

Julia. Don't be a fool. 

Milicent. How dare you call me a fool ? 

Julia. How dare you drag me into all this muddle ? 

Milicent. You know how anxious I am that Mr. 
Joyce should find everything all right. 

Julia. Bother Mr. Joyce ! 

Milicent. Julia, you're brutal. I believe you're 
jealous. 

Julia. Jealous ! Jealous of who ? 



WE DINE AT SEVEN. 13 

Milicent. Jealous of Mr. Joyce. 

Julia. Oh, am I, indeed ! Well, perhaps your won- 
derful Mr. Joyce is not such a paragon as you take him 
for, I could tell you something 



Milicent. Julia, how dare you- 



Julia. Perhaps if I told you all that Mr. Joyce said 
to me in the conservatory on the night of the County 
Ball 

(Milicent goes into screaming hysterics. Julia shakes 
her soundly.) 

Julia. Will you tell me where I can find a candle ? 
Milicent {very faintly). There's one on the table 
by my bed. 

(Julia exits l. and returns with lighted candle.) 

Julia. Now, I'll get on with the dinner. 

(Julia going off r. carrying candle.) 

Milicent. Julia, how can you ? It's no use leav- 
ing me in the dark. How can I see to lay the cloth in 
the dark ? 

Julia. Well, how can I see to cook the cutlets ? 

Milicent. You must bring the cutlets in here. 

(Julia enters r. carrying candle in one hand, the frying- 
pan in the other. She crosses to fire l.) 

Julia. It's rather difficult to keep one's temper! 
Milicent, I'm sure it can't be right — that kitchen stove 
is red hot. 

Milicent. I suppose you realize that Mr. Joyce 
will be here in ten minutes and that you have simply 
nothing ready. 

Julia. / have nothing ready ! I like that. I 
should like to know what you've done, except upset 
the soup. Why don't you open the oysters ? 

(Milicent takes candle and goes off*.) 

Julia. Here, don't leave me in the dark ! 
Milicent {off r.). Julia, you simple idiot — if you 



14 WE DINE AT SEVEN. 

had any eyes, you would have seen this shilling in the 
slot thing had run out. 

Julia. Well, put another shilling in. 

(Milicent enters r.) 

Milicent. I've no change — lend me a shilling. 

Julia. It's no good asking me, I never carry any 
money about. 

Milicent, Well, what am I to do ? 

Julia. Borrow one 

Milicent. Who of ? Do you suppose I can put my 
head out of the window and scream for a policeman to 
come up and lend me a bob ? 

Julia. Happy thought, try a button. 

Milicent. I haven't got one. 

Julia. Rot. Cut one off somewhere. 

Milicent. I suppose I must. [Exit. 

Milicent (speaking off). I've cut one off. 

Julia. Well, put it in the slot. 

Milicent (off). It doesn't seem very honest. It's 
too big. 

Julia. Poke. 

Milicent (off). I am poking. 

(Lights go up suddenly. Milicent enters r., carrying 
oysters.) 

Milicent. There, that's splendid, now we shall get 
along capitally. How are the cutlets going ? 

Julia. Ripping. 

Milicent. Well, things might be worse. We'll 
have to do without soup, but if we have the oysters 
and the aspic and the cutlets and the pudding I dare- 
say Mr. Joyce will quite appreciate it ; get the aspic, 

there's a dear- 

[Julia exits r. 

(Milicent busy with the oysters.) 
Julia (off R.). I can't get the aspic out of the 
mould. 



WE DINE AT SEVEN. 15 

Milicent. I think it's usually done with boiling 
water. 

Julia. Right, O ! 

(Enter, R., Julia pouring liquid from mould into basin.) 

Julia. Oh ! do look, Milicent 

Milicent. What have you done ? You've melted 
it 

Julia. I've a brainwave. Do you think it will do 
for soup ? 

Milicent. Julia, how can you! what would Mr. 
Joyce think? 

Julia. Oh ! What about the pudding ? 

Milicent. Haven't you made it ? 

Julia. Made it ? Of course I haven't made it ! 

Milicent. Well, what on earth have you been 
doing, muddling about in the kitchen all this time ? 

Julia. Oh, Milicent, you are most ungrateful. I 
am sure I am doing everything in my power to help 
you. 

Milicent. Well, dear, do — do, there's a dear, get 
on with the pudding. 

Julia. I can't possibly leave the cutlets. 

Milicent. Well, bring the pudding things in here 
and make it while I open the oysters. 

(Milicent trying to open oyster with fork.) 

Milicent. Oh, I can't open this precious thing. 
I'll try a hair-pin. 

{The room getting i?i worse and worse disorder.) 

(Julia enters r., carrying pastry board and dough which 
she puts down on dinner table.) 

Milicent. Take the things off the table — you're 
upsetting it all. 

Julia. Perhaps you'll tell me where I am to put it 

Milicent. On the floor. 

Julia. Well, will you kindly move the potatoes ? 

(Milicent picks up basket of potatoes and puts it on the 



16 WE DINE AT SEVEN. 

arm-chair l. Julia kneels dow?i and rolls pastry 
on the floor. Milicent struggling with oyster. 
Julia rises and crosses ofln.) 

Julia (at door r.). Milicent, where do you keep 
the jam ? 

Milicent. These oysters are positively heartless. 

Julia. Milicent, where is the jam ? 

Milicent. Oh, bother, anywhere, try the top shelf 
in the cupboard. 

(Julia enters ivith big pot of jam. Milicent still strug- 
gling ivith oyster. Julia busy on floor at pastry. 
Fearful noise ojJR.). 

Together. What's that 

(Milicent drops oyster. Julia drops jam. 77iey both 
rush over and peep into kitchen.) 

Julia. It's that stove, there is something horribly 
wrong with it. 

Milicent. Well, we haven't time to bother about 
that now. Do please get on with the pudding. This 
oyster will make me hysterical in a moment, it is most 
unreasonable of it, it positively refuses to open. Julia, 
how do you open oysters ? 

Julia. Here let me have a try, we shall never be 
ready, you come and put the jam in the pudding. 
(They change over. Julia trying at the oyster. Mili- 
cent making an awful mess of the puddi?ig. 
(Milicent picks up jar and smells it, and then pulls out 
handful of Pickled Cabbage. 

Milicent. Julia, you inconceivable idiot 1 

Julia. Thanks. 

Milicent. I suppose you realize that you are 
making jam Roley Poley with Pickled Cabbage. 
What a horrible smell of burning. 

Julia. Heavens, it's the cutlets! (Throws down 
oysters and rushes to fire) They are burnt to a cinder 1 
It's all your fault, making me go and dance about that 
pudding. 



WE DINE AT SEVEN. ] 7 

Milicent. Oh, of course it's my fault ! I suppose 
it's my fault the servants have walked off. I sup- 
pose this suffragette twaddle is my fault. I suppose 
this precious Mrs. Blankhurst is my fault. I suppose it's 
my fault that this bothering man is coming to dinner. 
I suppose it's my fault that it's three minutes to seven. 
I am sure Mr. Joyce 

Julia. Oh, confound Mr. Joyce ! 

Milicent. Julia ! 

Julia. I say it again, confound Mr. Joyce ! 

Milicent. How dare you abuse Mr. Joyce ? 

Julia. Bother, confound and drat Mr. Joyce ! 

(Milicent breaks into violent hysterics. She throws her- 
self into armchair, landing on the potatoes. She 
screams, gets up, sweeps the potatoes all over the 
floor and collapses into the chair.) 

Julia. Milicent ! do, do stop 

(Milicent worse.) 

Julia. Milicent, if the beastly man is coming, we 
must give him something to eat — the soup is gone — 
the aspic is melted — the cutlets are hopeless— so he 
will have to satisfy himself with the oysters and the 
pudding. Do let us get on with them. 

(Julia goes down on her knees working at the pudding. 
Milicent takes up the oysters?) 

Milicent. I can't open the wretched thing — I'll 
get a hammer. 

{Another search, upsetting all the place lookmg for a ham- 
mer. The room, by this time, is in the utmost dis- 
order. Milicent finds hammer in drawer and 
tries to open oyster with it on the table. The oyster 
slips about?) 

Milicent. Julia, if you had a grain of kindness or 
consideration in you, you would come and hold this 
wretched oyster. How can I possibly open it while it 
wobbles about all over the place like this ? 



13 WE DINE AT SEVEN. 

(Julia has her hands all over dough, she crosses.) 

Julia. Here, you don't understand carpentering a 
bit, you hold the oyster, and let me have a try. 

(Milicent holds oyster, Julia gets it into position and 
gives a vigorous blow. Milicent's hand slips and 
she receives the full fo?re of the hammer on her 
ha?id. She screams with pain.) 

Milicent. Oh, Julia ! You brute, you brute ! *you 
brute ! You did that on purpose, I know you did — 
Oh! Oh! Oh! 

{Clock strikes seven. A loud knock and ringing at front 
door.) 

Milicent. There's Mr. Joyce ! 

(A fearful noise off R.) 

Julia. The stove^ — ■- 

( Terrific explosion R. Both ladies thrown down — Mil- 
icent across table ^ Julia on to sofa.) 

{Trick scenery : props work at this, making a scene of 
absolute chaos and havoc.) 

curtain. 

(Second picture. Ladies still prostrate. Door L. c. 
open and a very smart man in eveni?ig dress looking 
amazed at the hopeless scene of desolation. 



•OPY r>pr> tq CAT D V. 

NOV 27 1909 



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LIBRARY ffJS2K£j|j| 

016 102 872 1 



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